Song of myself

[xaara]

I am now a Whitman addict. I started reading his poems for English class and now I can't stop. I am particularly partial to the shorter ones, though some longer poems ("Song of Myself" and "Whoever You are, Holding Me now in Hand") resonate within me as well. Actually, the second of those two is my favorite of all the Whitman I've read, and though it's too long to copy into my journal, I found it here. He's written far too much to read in a day, or even to comprehend in a week, so for now I'm just savoring the words I've found and letting them slide across my tongue like tiny grains of salt, so savory as to be sweet.

For now I've brought a small poem into my LJ, a little fragment of a great genius, and a sentiment that I echo so clearly that I can almost dance with the words:

JOY! shipmate - joy!
(Pleas'd to my Soul at death I cry;)
Our life is closed - our life begins;
The long, long anchorage we leave,
The ship is clear at last - she leaps!
She swiftly courses from the shore;
Joy! shipmate - joy!

Comments

[carrole.livejournal.com]

Bah! I can't stand Whitman. I really don't like any of the Transcendentalists. Not even Emerson. Maybe if I read some of the shorter ones, instead, it would be better, but "Song of Myself" is so long!

I like Dickinson, though. She's my favorite.

[xaara.livejournal.com]

"Song of Myself" is a bit long, but parts of it just shine.

Ooh, Dickinson! I've always loved this one by her, because it manages so compactly to say so much:

I had no time to hate, because
The grave would hinder me,
And life was not so ample I
Could finish enmity.

Nor had I time to love; but since
Some industry must be,
The little toil of love, I thought,
Was large enough for me.